


Beware the Witching Hour

by moonrise31



Series: once, twice, and again until it's over [31]
Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, Harry Potter AU, ot9 mentions of course
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27734530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonrise31/pseuds/moonrise31
Summary: In which Mina spends her sixth year at Hogwarts falling, gradually and indisputably, for The Girl Who Lived.(Alternatively, in which Sana deals with a few Dark Lord shenanigans distracting her from her well-deserved budding teenage romance.)
Relationships: Minatozaki Sana/Myoui Mina
Series: once, twice, and again until it's over [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/935700
Comments: 9
Kudos: 217





	Beware the Witching Hour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dubfu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dubfu/gifts).



> happy birthday, becca!! thank you for being a great friend, the best beta, and genuinely one of the most thoughtful people I have ever met. hope you have an amazing day :)

Two months before Mina was born, her parents would later tell her, the Dark Lord entered the Minatozaki household on the other side of town with the express intention of slaughtering everyone inside. At the peak of his power and with a crowd of Death Eaters at his beck and call, even two experienced Aurors could do little against him.

Within minutes, the once cheerful home was thrice illuminated in bone-chilling green as he fired Killing Curses within a single breath. But what happened next sowed the seeds of future grand tales and countless whispered conspiracies — because the only surviving witness to the end of He Who Must Not Be Named that terrible night was barely a month old, and had only taken a single scar above her eye as a souvenir.

When Mina began attending Hogwarts eleven years later, she watched as The Girl Who Lived got sorted into Slytherin and quickly became attached at the hip to Nayeon Im — a Slytherin second-year from a family whose name could command a room as soon as it was spoken, although the members mostly kept to themselves. But in spite of their House’s somewhat hostile reputation and the additional inescapable weight of fame bearing insistently down on their pre-adolescent shoulders, the two proved to be considerate and even friendly to each of their schoolmates. And although it wasn’t uncommon for students to still fall quiet and make way in the halls whenever they walked past, the others in their group of close friends were more readily approachable and kept the general intimidation factor to a minimum.

Still, Mina had maintained a respectable distance as she began her magical studies, and is well into her sixth year before she finally comes face to face with her classmate Sana Minatozaki.

The Wizard’s Chess Club is open for any student, although meetings are held in the Ravenclaw common room as most of the members already live there. Naturally, the implicit club initiation became whether a prospective member could answer the bronze eagle’s riddle to enter the Ravenclaw tower, which tends to turn away all but the brightest minds from the other three Houses.

This group of exceptions includes Jihyo Park from Gryffindor, a fellow sixth-year and Mina’s self-proclaimed best friend since they’d boarded the same car on the Hogwarts Express for their very first day of school. Mina particularly likes playing chess with Jihyo, because she’s one of the few people who will lose against Mina just for the fun of having played the game, instead of in another failed attempt to bring down the student described by the Club Head as one of the best players that Hogwarts has seen in the last few centuries.

“You’ll be able to checkmate me in seven moves, won’t you?” Jihyo asks idly as she scans the board, chin propped in the palm of one hand. One of her knights has gotten testy and is in the middle of dismounting his horse so he can yell more aggressively at the pawn in the space diagonal from him, but a stern prod from Jihyo’s finger is enough for him to huffily settle back into his saddle.

“Maybe five,” Mina says. “But it depends on what you do with your — ”

Jihyo waves her hand in Mina’s face. “Wait, don’t tell me. I’m going to move bishop to E5.” 

The bishop grumbles about being sent to his death, but Mina offers Jihyo a smile even as he’s taken by her rook. “Seven moves it is.”

Jihyo beams, and Mina briefly wonders how much happier the world would be if more people were brave enough to lose. Then a teasing glint enters Jihyo’s eyes. “You’ve got your thinking face on again.”

Mina wrinkles her nose. “We were just playing chess, so of course I was thinking.”

“I was playing chess,” says Jihyo with a fond roll of her eyes, “and you were doing the thing where it’s too easy for you, so your mind starts to wander.” She leans forward. “It wasn’t about Divination, was it? You know that half the prophecies we hear are just based on whatever fever dream the professor had the night before. Maybe three-quarters, even.”

“I wasn’t thinking about that,” Mina says, sitting back in her chair as Jihyo starts to laugh. But then the door to the common room swings open, and two girls with green-and-silver neckties step through.

Jihyo turns, and then straightens when she recognises the newcomers. “Nayeon? What are you doing here? You said that chess is for nerds.”

Nayeon casts a quick glance around the room. “Apparently not, since Jeongyeon isn’t here.” She grins as she steps forward and throws an arm over Jihyo’s shoulder. “How’s the game? Are you winning?”

Jihyo scoffs as she allows Nayeon to pull her into a brief hug. “You do know who I’m playing against, right?”

Nayeon glances up to lock eyes with Mina. “Oh, you must be Myoui, then. Jihyo complains about you all the time.”

“I do not ‘complain’,” Jihyo huffs as she shrugs off Nayeon’s arm. “And her name is Mina. Mina, this annoying excuse of a Head Girl is Nayeon Im, and that’s Sana Minatozaki.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sana chirps as Nayeon offers a friendly wave, and Mina can barely stammer out a greeting in return. The appearance of the two Slytherins has drawn some curious looks, but neither of them nor Jihyo seems fazed. 

“The Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw match is about to start,” says Nayeon. “We should leave now if we want to get good seats.” She looks again at Mina, the shine in her eyes unexpectedly warm. “You’re welcome to join. Anyone who can make Jihyo look like an idiot gets my seal of approval.”

Jihyo glares, to which Nayeon responds by pulling a face impressively unbecoming of the top student in the entire school. Mina cracks a smile as she watches. “I was planning to go, anyway. My friend is the Ravenclaw Keeper.”

“Oh, you know Tzuyu?” Sana’s expression is bright and open in a way that Mina has never seen, not even when Jihyo laughs with her entire body or when Tzuyu greets the owl that delivers her mail every morning. And the dim, flickering lighting from the common room fireplace makes the jagged line seared onto Sana’s forehead almost invisible; that, coupled with Jihyo and Nayeon continuing their banter off to the side, helps the tension begin to seep out of Mina’s limbs.

Still, Sana’s gaze holds a different kind of intensity, so Mina casts her eyes down as she reaches out to put the chess pieces away. “A couple of years ago, someone misfired an _avis_ charm, and the entire tower was taken over by an enormous flock of aggressive pigeons. I was trying to figure out how to reverse the spell, but Tzuyu ended up saving the day by coaxing all of the birds down with pieces of bread and pie she got from the kitchens, so we’ve been friends ever since.”

“That sounds about right,” Sana giggles as Mina places the last piece in the box beside their table; Jihyo folds up the board and stores the items in the club chest by the fireplace. The four exit the common room, Mina and Sana falling in behind Nayeon and Jihyo as they make their way through the school’s wide corridors and down the semi-shifty staircases. 

Mina finds it suspiciously easy to talk with Sana. She’s barely known the girl — The Girl Who Lived, no less — for five minutes, but the lilt in Sana’s voice makes Mina believe that they’re already on their way to becoming lifelong friends. When she belatedly realises that silence has fallen between them, Mina racks her brain, but can’t remember what Sana had been talking about just before. She clears her throat, unable to give Sana much besides a sheepish grin. “Um, pardon?”

Sana laughs again, thankfully unoffended by Mina’s lack of attention. “I said, what do you like about chess?”

Mina shrugs. “I’ve always liked all kinds of games, but chess is the only one with a club here.”

Sana narrows her eyes. “You’re one of those geniuses, aren’t you.”

“I’m not.” Mina ducks her head. “I fall asleep in History of Magic all the time.”

“I’m not sure that counts,” Sana says with another laugh, nudging Mina’s elbow with her own. Mina is saved from replying as they walk out of the castle and cross the grounds towards the Quidditch pitch. The stands are almost half-filled already, but Nayeon boldly leads all of them to the Slytherin box and miraculously finds empty seats in the front row. They’re eventually forced to pack in a little more tightly, and Mina finds herself squeezed firmly between Jihyo and Sana.

“Good afternoon, Hogwarts,” Jeongyeon Yoo’s voice booms from the announcer box. It’s across the field from them, and if Mina squints she can make out the yellow-and-black scarf wrapped loosely around Jeongyeon’s neck. “Who’s ready for a great game today?”

A smattering of cheers ripples across the pitch. Then Dahyun Kim pops up beside Jeongyeon, her own amplified voice ringing through the air. “Come on, Yoo. That’s no way to introduce what’s gonna be Gryffindor’s _fifth consecutive win_ this season.”

The crowd of red and gold in the stands erupts in one resounding roar. Jihyo also joins in, ignoring the steely glares from the Slytherins around them, and Mina reflexively leans a bit into Sana to save her left ear from bleeding. Meanwhile, Jeongyeon reminds Dahyun with barely masked amusement that the announcers are supposed to remain impartial. Dahyun shrugs and makes a noncommittal noise that could have been anything from, “I’ll try,” to, “You’re in for a nasty surprise.”

When the players finally take to the air, Mina immediately spots Tzuyu by the Ravenclaw hoops. She cheers every time Tzuyu blocks an attempted shot, but otherwise doesn’t pay much attention to the field. Besides Jeongyeon’s pun-filled commentary and Dahyun’s exaggerated exclamations, additional entertainment arrives in the form of Chaeyoung Son, the Gryffindor Seeker, who occasionally flies by the Ravenclaw side just to give Tzuyu a high-five. Tzuyu readily returns each one, even managing to catch a sneaky Quaffle Chaeyoung’s teammate tried to throw past her when her back was turned; she takes the time to glare disapprovingly at the offending Chaser before passing the Quaffle over Chaeyoung’s head to a Ravenclaw teammate.

“Excellent save by Chou there,” Dahyun says, apparently forgetting that Tzuyu is not on the team she’s been rooting for. “Did you know that she hasn’t been scored on once this entire season?”

“It must be her wingspan,” says Jeongyeon, cackling when Dahyun threatens to hit her with a Quietening charm if she makes one more bird reference in any Ravenclaw game for the rest of the year.

Jihyo and Nayeon, meanwhile, are engaged in another shouting match of sorts: Nayeon yells alternately for Chaeyoung to get the Snitch already and for Tzuyu to keep up the great work, while Jihyo screams unintelligibly whenever Gryffindor manages a good steal and every time Tzuyu does a fancy flip before catching the Quaffle one-handed. And although Mina is at least somewhat accustomed to Jihyo’s volume, her and Nayeon’s combined decibel has Mina shrinking away as far as possible.

“Maybe we should take a page from Dahyun’s book and quiet them instead,” Sana snickers. 

Mina jerks back at how close her voice is. When it dawns on her that she had practically been leaning into Sana’s lap, the sudden rush flooding her ears makes Mina want to Disapparate all the way back to the Ravenclaw common room.

But Sana’s eyes are a warmth much softer than the one fervently burning in Mina’s cheeks. “Here,” Sana says, and reaches around Mina to press the palm of her hand against Mina’s deafened ear. Her other hand comes up to provide similar protection to her right, and when Mina stares at Sana, Sana beams back.

Mina wants to remind her that they’re sixth-years more than capable of using magic to solve their problems; Sana had even mentioned using a spell just moments before. But Mina’s ears are permanently flushed even as Sana’s touch remains cool, and the heat in her head has set the rest of her coherency ablaze. 

So Mina says nothing for the rest of the game, and Sana only removes her hands to cheer at the end. When Nayeon asks if she’s feeling alright, Mina mumbles an excuse about it being too crowded in the stands, and sticks close to Jihyo as they make their way down to the pitch to congratulate both Tzuyu and Chaeyoung on a game well played. 

-

Mina runs into Sana again two weeks later, in the corridor outside of the library — almost literally, because Mina turns the corner and Sana is standing right there, staring at the wall with what seems to be enough intent to crack the stone. 

Mina’s appearance immediately breaks her concentration. But a smile quickly curves Sana’s lips as she recognises who has almost knocked into her. “Mina! I didn’t expect to see you here. Shouldn’t you be at the chess club?”

“I left early,” says Mina, neglecting to mention that Jihyo being caught up in a prefect meeting leaves very little motivation for her to remain in the Ravenclaw common room. “There’s still a couple of hours before curfew, so I thought I’d get some studying done.” She glances at the wall next to Sana. “What are you doing?”

“Talking to a snake,” says Sana. 

Her tone is so blithe that Mina almost misses the meaning of her words. When her brain finally catches up with her ears, Mina takes a small step back. “Pardon?”

Sana waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve convinced her there are better things to do than lurk in the walls of our school, chasing after a ghost whose only crime is crying in the bathroom.” Mina immediately thinks of The Grey Lady or The Bloody Baron, but she can’t imagine either in such an undignified position. Then Sana interrupts her speculation by extending a hand. “Actually, since you’re here, how do you feel about Hippogriffs?”

Mina takes another second to process the topic change; for all the thoughts she’s able to keep straight in her head, Sana has proved herself more than capable of derailing most of them. “Pardon?” She ends up saying again.

“You know Momo Hirai, right?” Sana, as has become usual, cheerfully pushes through Mina’s confusion. “From Hufflepuff, the same year as we are. She spends a lot of time helping the Herbology professor in the greenhouses because the mandrakes actually don’t cry around her, but the gamekeeper recruited her to help out with Care of Magical Creatures, too.”

“Tzuyu would be jealous,” Mina finally manages to say. “The only thing she likes better than that class is probably playing with the three-headed dog — ” Mina’s eyes widen. “The one that is very much back in Greece, and not romping around in the Forbidden Forest, I mean.”

Sana mimes zipping her lips. “I wouldn’t sell Fluffy out for a thousand Galleons. Anyway, Tzuyu usually does help out, but she’s stuck with extra Quidditch practice, so Momo asked me to come instead. And now that you’re here I’m thinking, the more the merrier, right?”

“Right,” Mina barely gets out before she realises that Sana has taken a hold of her wrist, the sleeve of Mina’s robe shielding her skin from the soft curl of Sana’s fingers. But Mina feels a familiar burn in her ears anyway, leaving her with no choice but to get dragged out of the castle and watch how the fading sunlight shines across the waves of Sana’s hair as if they’re sunken treasure.

“Momo!” Sana raises her free hand as they approach the pen Mina remembers bowing to the Hippogriffs in when she was a third-year. Momo Hirai is standing by the fence, her back towards them as she flicks her wand at a pile of something further inside the pen. 

She jumps a little when Sana shouts, but then turns and gives an energetic wave back. “Hey, I didn’t think you were going to make it.”

“I got held up a little, but I brought help.” Sana tugs Mina forward. “This is Mina Myoui.”

Momo wipes a hand on her robes before reaching out to shake Mina’s. “Hello, there. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Not more than usual,” Sana says quickly. The evening is dim, but Mina thinks that the smile Momo shoots Sana has just a tinge of smugness tilting it. Sana clears her throat. “So what do you need us to do?”

Momo casts a glance at the pen; the twelve Hippogriffs inside seem content enough, tails flicking lazily even as each one keeps an eagle eye trained on their latest visitors. “I’m actually almost done. But you could help me with some grooming, if you’re up for it.”

“Sure,” Sana chirps. She glances at Mina. “If that’s alright with you?” Mina nods, and the night lightens briefly as Sana beams. Then she turns back to Momo. “How did you manage to finish it all on your own? Did you duplicate yourself or something?” 

Sana’s tone is teasing, but Mina sees Momo’s hands flutter nervously before she opens the gate. “What? No, it’s not like I time traveled or anything. That would be impossible.”

Sana frowns. “That’s not what I said — ”

“Here, do you want to brush Petco? She’s quite calm.” Momo turns to Mina, eyes a little wild; Mina takes pity on her and nods. Momo gives a grateful grin, one of her hands coming up to clutch at the lump of a necklace tucked under the collar of her shirt. It isn’t exactly unobtrusive, and Mina is half sure that Sana has also noticed. But neither of them say anything; if Momo does happen to possess an object that can push the already expansive limits of what magic can do, Mina figures that no real harm can come from using it to turn back time and take care of a fantastic beast or two.

Momo places a brush into Mina’s hand, explaining that it’s enchanted to help smooth out both a Hippogriff’s feathers and the coarser hair on its back and hindquarters. Momo moves on to help Sana with the same, and Mina is left to bow her head and hope that the Hippogriff deems her worthy.

Fortunately, Petco almost immediately returns her gesture, blinking owlishly before nudging her great head forward so it’s within easier reach of the brush. Mina lets out a laugh, wondering how such a proud creature can come off as so adorable, and gently runs the brush from the crown of Petco’s head down to the joints of the wings on her back.

There’s a giggle from a few meters off, and Mina looks up to watch as Sana dips her head, allowing the Hippogriff in front of her to run its dangerously curved beak ever so softly through her hair as she scratches under its chin. “Hey, stop playing around, you two,” Momo laughs from where she’s gone to inspect some fence posts, to which Sana whines and attempts to blame the Hippogriff for starting it.

Sana isn’t even looking in her direction, but Mina feels her cheeks warm anyway. Petco clicks her beak together as Mina brushes over a particular spot on her haunch, so Mina goes over it again a few more times just to keep her happy. Or maybe Petco had been laughing at her — because even as the sun sets behind the Whomping Willow in the distance, it dawns on Mina that the bubbling that persists in her stomach whenever Sana nears is probably here to stay.

-

A month or so later, Chaeyoung gathers the nine of them on the castle’s seventh floor and begins to wordlessly pace back and forth in the corridor. Mina briefly wonders how she’s found herself here: in a small crowd of people she has begun to label as her friends, and sandwiched between Jihyo and Tzuyu — the former looking like she’s about to take points from her own House because Chaeyoung is clearly up to no good, again. 

Then a door materialises in the previously blank wall in front of them. Chaeyoung beams before opening it and gesturing them all inside with a grand bow and sweeping arm. “Welcome,” Dahyun says with her announcer voice once they’ve all gathered inside, “to the Room of Requirement.”

They all take a moment to examine the space, which is small but not enough to crowd them. A fire crackling merrily at the far side casts warm shadows along the walls and floor, with a couch and a few armchairs arranged in a loose ring in front of it. A rug sits in the middle of the circle, decorated by an array of cushions and fluffy blankets.

“Well,” Nayeon finally says. “This is new.”

“Settle down, everyone,” says Dahyun as she hops forward to claim a spot on the couch. “Tonight is going to be exactly what we all need before final assignments and semester break.”

“Good,” Jeongyeon says as she commandeers an armchair. “I needed another excuse to procrastinate on my Charms essay, anyway.” 

The rest of them also claim spots around the fireplace, and Mina finds herself on the floor with Momo to her left and Sana on her right. They’re not shoulder to shoulder, but Mina still shifts as little as possible, both out of respect for Momo’s personal space as well as her own sanity when it comes to anything concerning Sana.

Nayeon turns the conversation to complaining about her upcoming N.E.W.T.s, and Dahyun chimes in quickly with her own fifth-year exam woes. Advice of varying utility and academic horror stories gradually drift off to other topics, and Mina can’t help but glow a little whenever Momo laughs at something she says, or when Jeongyeon asks for her opinion on whether one can ever grow too old to collect the cards that come with chocolate frogs.

Ever since the Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw game and helping Momo with the Hippogriffs, Mina has found herself firmly integrated into the circle she had only been tangential to before. They’re all people she’s learned the names and faces of in passing during the five years she’s already attended this school, but it’s only now that she finds herself wishing for time to slow.

Finally, Dahyun clears her throat. “And now, the main event.” Chaeyoung reaches behind a pillow and pulls out a wooden goblet. Once she faces forward again, a flash of white-blue fire sparks along the rim; Nayeon scoots a little closer to Jeongyeon on the opposite end of the couch.

“What’s that?” Tzuyu finally asks.

Chaeyoung shrugs. “A fire goblet, or something. But look at this.” She produces a piece of parchment from her robe, tearing it into strips while Dahyun helpfully holds out a quill and inkwell. “Everyone, write your names down, please.” She waits as the materials are passed around, and eventually Dahyun collects a fistful of folded slips that she then unceremoniously tosses into the goblet.

Jeongyeon leans back as the fire burns red. “Is it angry now?”

“Nope,” Dahyun chirps. “It’s just thinking.”

“It’ll start spitting slips back out,” Chaeyoung explains as the flames return to their original blue-ish hue. “So Dahyun and I thought it would be fun to make this into a game. The person whose name is chosen has to do whatever we tell her to, or something.”

Jihyo narrows her eyes. “Couldn’t we have done this with a normal cup instead of the fire hazard?” 

“Don’t be boring,” says Chaeyoung just as the fire flickers red once more. “Oh, here it comes.”

The goblet spits a folded slip out, and Dahyun plucks it out of the air to read it. She whips around, mischievous eyes meeting Mina’s briefly before they land on Sana. “Minatozaki, it seems that you are indeed The Chosen One.”

Sana giggles, leaning back on her hands — and a little towards Mina — as she grins. “Alright, do your worst.”

Dahyun and Chaeyoung immediately exchange glances, but it’s Nayeon who says, “You should kiss whoever’s name comes out of that cup next.”

Sana puckers her lips at the other Slytherin. “I hope it’s you, Im.”

“It’s turning red again,” says Jihyo, leaning forward eagerly in spite of her better prefect judgement.

“And the lucky girl is…” Dahyun catches the new slip, unfolding it with the air of the Headmaster before he announces the winner of the House Cup. When her eyes scan over the name, her grin widens in a way that pushes the first anxious tendril into curling at the bottom of Mina’s stomach. “Our very own Mina Myoui!”

The flames have gone back to blue, but the heat in Mina’s ears is a deep crimson. Sana turns to her, eyes shining from the fireplace and maybe something Mina dares to think of as friendly affection. “In that case, I think I’m the lucky one.”

Mina’s jaw drops as she chokes out a string of unhelpful stutters, but fortunately Sana doesn’t come any closer. Her gaze softens further, head tilting as she tries to keep Mina’s line of sight. “Are you alright? We don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No, no, it’s — it’s okay.” Mina shakes her head a few times, but it does little to clear the roaring in her ears. She concentrates on keeping her voice steady. “Um, you can just, you know. Whenever.”

Sana laughs. “Are you sure?” Mina nods vigorously, not trusting herself to say anything more. Sana reaches up, fingertips grazing Mina’s temple as she carefully tucks away some hair, hand stilling just behind Mina’s burning ear. “If you change your mind, just tell me to stop.”

Of the entire jumble of inchorencies Mina’s mind has fallen into, telling Sana to stop is certainly not one of them. But she does squeeze her eyes shut as Sana begins to lean in, too afraid of her brain doing something inconvenient like memorising every curve of Sana’s dancing eyes and soft cheeks and smiling lips —

Lips, Mina realises, that Sana ever so carefully presses to her forehead. 

Mina’s eyes snap open. Sana lingers for just a second before pulling back, but it’s enough for Mina to understand what is happening, all at once — fingers still grazing the shell of her ear, the slightest brush of breath along the tingling skin above her left eyebrow, and how Sana looks at her as if Mina is the one who bears the world’s debt in the shape of a scar that will never stop bleeding in the ways it needs to.

Then Nayeon squeals, Jeongyeon cheers, and Jihyo flings a pillow that lands right in between Mina and Sana. Momo throws an arm around Mina’s shoulders, asking her how it felt like to almost receive what can only be equivalent to the Dementor’s Kiss. Dahyun and Chaeyoung high-five each other, and Tzuyu’s eyes are laughing even as she stands to help Jihyo put away the goblet that is now dangerously close to what most likely is a flammable couch.

And amongst it all, Sana finds the moment to reach over and curl her hand around Mina’s, squeezing to ask if she’s okay.

Mina smiles — her cheeks still pink, her head finally beginning to adjust to this new equilibrium — and squeezes back.

-

Most of the girls go home for the holidays. Mina, however, stays behind, on account of a letter her parents had sent detailing that she is welcome back as always, but her father will be assisting overtime at St Mungo’s while her mother is not expected back from her Ministry mission in the Americas until late January. 

In the end, Mina would rather spend her Christmas and New Year’s in the same castle as Sana than in an empty home with only well-meaning house-elves for company.

Sana, for her part, is thrilled when she finds out that Mina is also staying at Hogwarts, and her blinding enthusiasm is probably why Mina so easily agrees to a Potions tutoring session in Sana’s room just a few days into semester break. It’s not until they’re standing at the door leading down to the dungeons that Mina feels an icy apprehension slither into her gut.

The reaction is mostly the remnants of previous prejudices, since she knows that neither Nayeon nor Sana are the bullies that school rumours make most of their House to be. But they’re still descending far beneath ground level, and although Mina gets acceptable marks in Potions, that doesn’t mean she enjoys spending time in a dark and damp classroom that even Momo can’t convince plants to grow inside of.

It’s dark inside the Slytherin common room, too, but a little less chilly than Mina had been anticipating — although Sana holding her hand might have more to do with staving off the cold than anything else. Mina passes over certain features of note — the viewing window under the lake, the lamps that glow a signature green, and copious amounts of skull decorations from a variety of species — to settle on the Wizard’s Chess board set out on one of the tables. “Do you play?”

Sana wrinkles her nose. “Not that one. It’s cursed so that the loser has to make an Unbreakable Vow to the winner.” 

“You could always come to the chess club,” Mina says before she can stop herself. 

“Yeah?” Sana turns to smile at her. “You’d want me to come?”

“Of course.” Mina nods. “I’d want everyone to come,” she adds, because that’s true, too.

“Maybe after the holidays, then,” says Sana. She pulls Mina towards the staircase. “But today, you’re here to help me make sense of Advanced Potions.” 

Mina lets out a laugh. “I don’t know if I can be of any real help. My Draught of Living Death could barely get someone drowsy.” 

“Then we’ll figure it out together.” They reach the top of the staircase, and Sana makes an immediate right before stopping in front of an unobtrusive looking door. “Here we are!”

She pushes the door open, and Mina tentatively steps in after her. The room is rather ordinary: beds on either side with accompanying writing desks, and a tapestry hanging on the far wall depicting a lake in the middle of some peaceful woodlands. The space is definitely lived in, which means there are robes and socks and books strewn everywhere, but Mina recognises the scarf draped around the bedpost on the left, because the silver threading on one end had been completely torn out when Sana had gotten it caught on the edge of a table in the pub during their recent trip to Hogsmeade. 

“Sorry for the mess,” Sana says cheerfully as she kicks aside some shirts and makes her way to the desk to start clearing off some space. “You can sit on the bed if you want.”

The bedspread is miraculously uncluttered, so Mina gingerly settles herself onto the mattress. She leans back on her hands, her weight sinking slightly into the bed. “Your room is nice.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Sana shoots back, “but I’ll let you off easy since you’re the guest.” She pats around her desk for another moment or two, hand bumping against a pair of round-rimmed glasses.

“You wear glasses?” Mina asks before she can stop herself.

“I should, but I keep losing or breaking them. Nayeon’s theory is that if I could figure out a way to keep them on and also stay on a broom, I might not actually be half bad at Quidditch.” Sana pauses in her rambling to turn and face Mina with a sheepish grin. “Actually, would you mind sharing your textbook? I can’t seem to find mine.” 

Mina laughs, shaking her head as she pulls out her copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ , not realising that Sana has joined her on the mattress until the other girl’s knee bumps against hers. They spend a few hours puzzling over potion recipes, and Mina’s brain would be beyond hurting if Sana wasn’t making her smile every other minute — or blush whenever she catches Sana’s gaze and holds it for a second too long.

Long after Mina has lost count of the number of times she’s had to quickly look away to keep her insides from shaking into an irreversible mush, she spies the corner of a familiar book cover poking out from the half-closed lid of Sana’s trunk. She crawls over to the foot of the bed and pulls out a tattered copy of their Potions textbook.

“Um, I can explain,” Sana starts as Mina shoots her a questioning look. Mina opens the text, frowning at the scribbles decorating the margins of each page.

Sana trails off into muted silence as Mina continues flipping through. Finally, Mina stops at the section on the Draught of Living Death. She reads the notes, and then finally glances back up at Sana. “So we should be crushing the Sophorous bean, and stirring clockwise in between the counterclockwise ones.”

“Mina, please.” Sana shrugs helplessly, and for the first time since Mina has known her, she sounds nervous. “Those notes aren’t mine, and I felt bad looking at them when I can’t even understand the original that they’re improving on. So I really wasn’t lying to you about needing help in this class, I promise.”

Mina shuts the textbook. “I know,” she says. “The handwriting isn’t yours, and you don’t seem like the type to mindlessly copy the hard work of others.” Mina takes a breath. “But can I ask you something?”

Sana quickly nods. “Of course.”

“Why me?”

Sana stares at her, and Mina herself doesn’t know exactly what she means, either. What she does know is that her heart betrays her every time Sana comes close — sending blood rushing to her head until she can only think of calculating the distance between them, and to her fingers so they tremble with a terrible itch to intertwine with Sana’s. Sana, who meets every day with a bounce in her step, and with eyes perpetually shining with such adoration that Mina simply can’t believe that any meaningful amount of it could be directed at _her_.

Mina finally clears her throat. “It’s just… I’m me, and you’re The Girl Who Lived. But here we are,” she waves vaguely in the space separating them, “doing this. So I need to get this idea out of my head that you’re — that you might be looking at me like I’m something I’m not.”

“Mina,” says Sana, so tenderly that Mina is afraid to even blink. “To me, there are three kinds of people in this world. The first will never look me in the eye without shying away from what the Dark Lord left behind. The second will simply laugh at this silly scar on my head and be happy to call me a friend.” 

Sana pauses, and then nudges Mina’s leg with her knee. Her voice weakens as she continues. “And the third sees it all and yet doubts herself instead, worrying that she’s not enough when it’s me who is only worth something because my parents died for it.”

Mina sits up. “Do you really think that? Because that’s not true at all.” 

Sana glances at her curiously, somber and small, and Mina hates this. So she swallows and says, “You said it yourself, that Nayeon and Momo and Jihyo and the others — that we’re all friends with you because you’re _you_. Because you’re good and kind and brilliant, and you care about every one of us so much that it hurts sometimes. And — ” Mina hesitates, but she’s come too far to stop now. “And if your parents were here, they’d be so proud of you, because you’ve become exactly who you should be, in spite of everything.”

Sana looks at Mina for a long moment, the honesty behind all that Mina has said now sinking in surely and steadily around them. Mina’s heart begins to pound more insistently in her ears, and she feels the familiar rush of heat that warns her of Sana tearing down her defenses yet again. She shifts a little, looking away as her fingers curve to clutch tightly at the hems of her sleeves, and begins to think that she might have to leave and spend the rest of the holiday hiding in the opposite end of the castle. 

“Mina,” says Sana, again.

Mina timidly faces Sana once more, suppressing a squeak when the other girl leans forward. 

“Can I give you a hug?”

Mina barely manages to nod before Sana crashes into her. She feels Sana’s face pressing into her shoulder, hair tickling her cheek as arms tighten around her waist. Their legs are in some inconvenient geometry, Mina’s knee most definitely digging into Sana’s side, but Mina holds Sana exactly so, too dazed to do anything but what her instincts dictate.

“After break,” Sana murmurs into the collar of Mina’s robes, “I’m going on a field trip of sorts. But if — when I return.” She pulls back a little, just enough so they aren’t brushing noses. “Can we finish this?”

Mina nods again, dumbly, and it takes some time for the words to unstick from her throat. “Alright, sure.”

“Thank you,” Sana says, and tucks herself into Mina once more, gripping the cloth over Mina’s back as if Mina is something she might lose.

-

“Checkmate,” Jihyo says in disbelief, watching as Mina’s king throws down his crown in front of her victorious knight. Jihyo’s quiet declaration immediately draws curious glances from the rest of the chess club, but her pointed glare around the entire common room is enough to keep them seated. She returns her attention to Mina, concern creasing every corner of her expression. “Are you alright?”

Mina musters up a smile, because Jihyo really is better at the game than she gives herself credit for. “Of course I’m alright. And congratulations, that was a good match.”

“It could have been better,” says Jihyo, tone skeptical as she glances back down at the board. “You missed like, three openings.” 

Mina sighs, knowing that she probably has a better chance of making the castle Poltergeist realise the error of his ways than escaping Jihyo’s inquisition. “I suppose I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”

Understanding dawns in Jihyo’s eyes, and Mina wonders when she had become so easy to read. “Sana will be alright. It’s only been a few days.”

“It’s been five,” Mina says. She feels a twinge of guilt for her curtness, but she’s much too agitated to get around to apologising just yet. “Since she’s been gone, Dahyun and Chaeyoung have landed multiple detentions, Tzuyu actually got scored on in the match yesterday, Momo spent two nights in the Hospital Wing, and you haven’t argued with Nayeon _or_ Jeongyeon even once.” Mina leans back and crosses her arms. “So please, try and tell me that nothing is wrong.”

Jihyo sighs. “First of all, those two will survive detention just fine, as they always have — it’s not like they’re going to be writing lines in their own blood or anything. Second, I’m pretty sure Tzuyu let Hufflepuff score one because Jeongyeon had a bet and she promised Tzuyu unlimited access to the bread in the kitchens if she rigged it. And I will admit that the Spiky Prickly Plant infestation was poorly timed and surprisingly thorny, but it’s still not as bad as the time Momo almost broke her neck trying to trim the Whomping Willow.”

Jihyo falls silent then, and Mina only raises her eyebrows.

“And I would argue _all day_ with Nayeon,” Jihyo continues, determinedly crossing her arms to mirror Mina’s, “but she’s busy studying for her N.E.W.T.s and would actually Stupefy both me and Jeongyeon if either of us bothered her.”

“Right,” says Mina, and lets out a long breath. “I think I’ll go to the library and do some studying.”

Jihyo lets her go without additional fuss, even volunteering to clean up the board so Mina can escape the common room a few seconds faster. 

Studying has never been Mina’s first choice of escape, but now she struggles even more than usual to focus on her pages of notes or the neatly printed lines in each of her textbooks. Instead of doing her History of Magic homework, Mina taps the tip of her quill against blank parchment as she thinks back to the rest of semester break just a week prior, and how Sana’s eyes now warmed her in a calmer fashion — a brush of reassurance instead of the usually wild flush of uncertainty. 

The air between them after the Potions tutoring session had remained unexpectedly serene for the rest of the week — as if they had already spoken the incantation, and were only waiting to see which spell had been cast. But as the others trickled back into the castle, Sana began preparing to leave, mentioning only that she and the Headmaster had something to investigate. That short statement alone was enough to push dread through all of Mina’s veins. 

And now, five days later, she’s left to sit and worry another evening away until it’s just thirty minutes before curfew. 

Mina packs up her things and exits the library, rounding a familiar corner and noting with some melancholy that there don’t seem to be any snakes in the walls this evening. She meanders through the corridors, running into dead ends twice before she forces herself to focus enough to find her way back to the door with its bronze eagle. She barely registers the knocker’s riddle before she gives her answer. And upon entering the common room, she almost drops her bag when she spots Sana standing in the middle of it.

“Mina!” Sana immediately brightens, and then tilts her head when she doesn’t receive a response. “Hello?”

Mina does drop her bag, then, and rushes forward to dive into Sana’s arms. “I — I can’t believe it,” she whispers. “You’re okay.”

“Of course I’m okay.” Sana runs her palm in gentle strokes along the top of Mina’s head. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You were gone for almost a week,” Mina mumbles into the folds of Sana’s robes — they smell faintly of bitter smoke and are cold to the touch, as if they had been hastily dried and had not yet forgotten the dampness that had once clung to them. “We were all worried sick.”

“I told you not to be,” says Sana with a laugh, “but I suppose I should have known better.”

Mina nods, finally stepping back to examine Sana more thoroughly. “You’re really alright? You aren’t hurt anywhere?”

“It wasn’t that dangerous or anything,” Sana insists. “I just had to help the Headmaster with a few minor matters.” She pauses. “Well, seven of them. But they’re dealt with now, and he’s back, and I’m back, and everything will be normal again.”

Mina smiles, and she feels it stretching her cheeks — but this is a good sort of hurt. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“And you really never needed to worry, you know.” Sana clasps her hands behind her back, leaning forward as her grin spreads into something so adoring and self-satisfied that Mina’s heart can do nothing but ache. “Do you know why?”

Mina hesitates for a split second, and then takes a step closer. “Why?”

“It turns out,” Sana’s voice lowers, as if she’s confiding in Mina something that is much more intimate than speaking aloud in the Ravenclaw common room would imply, “that what you said about my parents might hold some truth, after all.”

“Oh.” Mina finds herself stuttering again, and she wonders if it’s simply because she’s become so weak that any extended duration of time without Sana leaves her grasping for sanity all over again. “I only said what makes sense.”

Sana laughs, the familiar fondness in her eyes intensified by the fireplace and its flickering flames. “It does make sense. You were right about them, and about our friends, and about us.” She takes a breath, the sound of it getting lost in the cosy warmth of the surrounding shadows. “Because with all these people who care so much about me and my well-being, there’s no way I could ever lose.” 

“Well,” says Mina with a roll of her eyes that she doesn’t really mean. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

“I won’t.” Sana stills, as if the weight of her next words are grounding her with their importance. “I will admit that our dear Headmaster is perhaps an overenthusiastic proponent of the power of love. I was afraid he was going to propose to me halfway through our trip, truth be told.”

Mina breaks into a grin. “Really? Our Headmaster?” Then the real meaning of what Sana has said settles; and she says, more softly, “Love?”

Sana lifts her shoulders in a light shrug. Her eyes twinkle as an honest smile curves her lips. “Yeah.”

The common room stands quiet, the crackling fireplace unaware of the atmosphere’s gravity. But when Mina takes another step, reaching up to carefully cup Sana’s cheeks with her palms, Sana laughs her brightest yet before grinning into their kiss.

And what burns in Mina’s heart now is not the same love that her parents have shared for decades, nor is it the love that had brought the nine of them together across different Houses and years into one Room of Requirement. But it is true and vibrant and rooted more deeply in her soul than she’d realised, because no amount of magic can make her soar higher than the single thought that Sana wants nothing more than to love her, too.

**Author's Note:**

> follow becca on twitter (@heartshooketh) and on ao3 (dubfu)!!


End file.
